


do you believe the magic 8 ball? I do

by turnyourfavgay



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Blood and Injury, Fluff, Keefe and Fitz are idiots, Kinda, M/M, Minor Injuries, Sharing a Bed, Swearing, Trapped In A Closet, alvar angst, but theyre in love so its fine, della cant cook, eh you should be used to it if you know anything about me, flirting??, its pretty minor but still there, they are so gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourfavgay/pseuds/turnyourfavgay
Summary: It all starts with a plan... well technically it's the magic 8 ball's fault but that is a lame way for a relationship to start.
Relationships: Alvar Vacker & Keefe Sencen, Keefe Sencen/Fitz Vacker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	do you believe the magic 8 ball? I do

**Author's Note:**

> I finished... FUCKING FINALLY!!! I'm tired and my editing is decent at best but I don't care. Enjoy, I always love feedback! thanks for reading!

Keefe glanced over at Fitz who was lying on his bed still attempting to complete the star map Keefe had finished ages ago. Keefe sighed heavily, pulling himself up from his spot at the foot of Fitz’s bed. He wandered over to a bookshelf in the corner of Fitz’s room. _Gnomish culture and tradition_ was the first title Keefe saw. “Nerd,” Keef muttered, a fond smile creeping onto his lips.

There weren’t just informational books on the shelf though, Fitz seemed to keep most of his little knick-knacks on the shelf too. Keefe smiled softly when he noticed one of his drawings was framed. It was one of his first ones too, so it wasn’t exactly a masterpiece. 

Keefe picked up a strange black sphere. He brought it closer to his eyes, shaking it slightly when red words appeared in a small circle. The letters were written in a language he couldn’t understand which was weird.

“Hey, Roy,” Fitz startled slightly, smearing the ink.  
“Keefe, this better be important,” Fitz said, glaring at his ink-stained hand.  
“What’s this?” Keefe managed to get out without bursting into a fit of laughter.

Fitz looked up then, letting out an indignant huff at Keefe’s slightly mocking smile. Fitz’s gaze finally landed on the weird ball in his hand. Fitz looked as if he was racking his brain for a way to explain it, which quite frankly Keefe didn’t like. 

“It’s called a magic 8 ball,” Fitz decided on, “It’s basically a fortune teller” Keefe gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s supposed to predict the future, or tell you the truth about something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Keefe scoffed, “Where’d you get this from anyways?”  
“Father brought it back from the forbidden cities for me” Keefe winced at the word _father_ and made a mental note to rant about his dad later so Fitz could vent.

Keefe considered the object for a moment wondering if a human object could really do that, it wasn’t like the elves could so it’s not like the humans could either, right? Then Keefe had an idea, now let’s be clear most of Keefe’s ideas ended in disaster.

“Is Fitzy in love with me?” Keefe asked aloud, shaking the 8ball. _Most definitely_ it read, Keefe gave Fitz a smirk who was watching him curiously. Keefe tossed the ball to Fitz who caught it easily.

“I mean you knew it wouldn’t work right?” Fitz asked. _Huh,_ Keefe thought, he wasn’t even flustered. He had just denied it with no shadow of doubt in his voice. 

Keefe was pretty damn sure that his feelings were mutual, but this, well, was unexpected, to say the least. There’s no way he could be that oblivious _right??_ And thus Keefe’s plan began.

Keefe needed help for the last stage, so logically he asked his best friend’s older brother. So here Keefe was standing at the edge of the Ravagog braiding long grass blades as he waited for Alvar. Just when he was finishing his second braid he heard footsteps behind him. 

“Hey kiddo, it’s been a while.”   
“Alvar?” He was standing a few feet away looking as cheerful as ever, albeit a little tired. Keefe sat up quickly, then stood a little awkwardly unsure if a hug would be too much. Alvar just laughed softly hooking his arm over Keefe’s shoulder as they walked down the path.

“It’s not that I don’t love seeing you, but what was so important it couldn’t wait till the end of the month?”  
“Well, about that” Keefe began, “I need your help with something.”  
“Okaaaay” Alvar drawled, “and could that something involve a little mischief,” playfully squeezing Keefe’s shoulder where his hand rested on it.

“I mean I guess you could call it that, I need help with your dumbass little brother,” Alvar was just looking at Keefe, so he took that as a sign to continue, “I need you to lock us in a closet.”

Alvar continued to stare for a second before he keeled over in a fit of laughter. Keefe felt heat rush to his cheeks as Alvar finally calmed down enough to look him in the eyes, doubling over once again

“So you finally got your shit together huh? Or wait let me guess he’s still hopelessly oblivious and it’s not funny anymore.”   
“Take a wild guess.”  
“I mean I guess it runs in the family,” Alvar said and his smile looked almost sad.   
“Anyways,” Alvar said, clearing his throat, “basically you want me to be your wingman.” 

“... well, when you put it that way-”  
“What do I get in return?”  
“Nothing,” Keefe said, putting on his best angelic smile, “You’re gonna do it ‘cause you love me.” Alvar smiled ruffling Keefe’s hair, “That I do, that I do.” 

The two walked back to the front of Ravagog in companionable silence that was occasionally interrupted by a joke or two. Once they made it back at the entrance they stood there for a second before Alvar reached out to pat Keefe’s shoulder. 

“I’ll see y-”  
“I missed you” Keefe interrupted. Alvar blinked at Keefe, smile falling from his face, in that moment he looked so full of regret and sadness that Keefe couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Alvar pulled Keefe into a strong hug squeezing him tightly right before he let go.

“I missed you too kiddo.”

Phase one out of three began a few days later. Keefe and Fitz were sitting outside by the lake to do their homework. They were sitting pretty close already but Keefe sighed and shifted his textbook leaning a little closer to Fitz. 

Keefe watched from the corner of his eye as he purposely pressed his thigh into Fitz’s. Fitz’s eyes widened and his hand jerked subtly enough that Keefe wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention. Good thing he was.

Fitz tried to subtly shift away but Keefe was having none of it. Fitz gave up on subtly and crossed his legs so it would be painfully obvious Keefe was pressing their legs together on purpose if he tried again. Keefe waited a few minutes then flipped over on to stomach so that their arms brushed every time Keefe went to write something down. 

Fitz let out a frustrated sigh next to him and Keefe looked over to where he was attempting to plan an essay for Elvin history. _He could work with this._

“Need some help with that ‘Roy?”   
“Please,” Fitz said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. Keefe hummed as he sat up leaning over Fitz’s shoulder to read over his work. 

“Pen?” Fitz held out the pen. Keefe pretended to still be reading over Fitz’s work as he skimmed his fingertips along Fitz’s knuckles, who shivered at the light touch. Keefe then pressed his chest into Fitz’s back reveling in his sharp intake of breath. 

Keefe continued to stay pressed firmly against Fitz who seemed intent on keeping his breathing regulated while Keefe corrected his work. Keefe finished slowly putting the pen down. You know what, fuck it Keefe thought.

“You’d think with all the books you’d read you would better, I guess it’s for the aesthetic, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t suit you though,” Keefe said, lips hovering close to Fitz’s ear who was completely frozen in place.

Keefe laid back down on the ground facing upwards this time so he could look over at Fitz every so often, who was still distinctly flustered the rest of the afternoon.

Stage two had to wait until the night before Alvar would come visit. It was a Friday so the boys had decided to play basequest, they pestered Biana and Della into joining them so they could actually have a full team. By the time Keefe and Fitz finally gave up, it was dark. Going to plan so far.

The two boys trudged into Fitz’s room drenched in sweat. Fitz started rifling around in his dresser. It had been a few minutes when he let out a muffled curse.

“I think I lost my crest, I’m gonna go look around outside,” Improvising is never a bad idea, _right?_ Keefe hummed in acknowledgment waiting for Fitz’s footsteps to fade down the hallway before he began. 

Keefe peeled off his sweaty shirt and dug around Fitz’s shirt drawer. Keefe hesitated before putting it on, eventually throwing it back and walking into Fitz’s bathroom to shower. When Keefe came out of the bathroom Fitz wasn’t back yet.

Keefe then went back to the dresser pulling on a pair of Fitz’s more casual pants and throwing on a shirt that he knew was a little oversized on Fitz so it should fit him fine. When Keefe looked at his reflection in the mirror he felt his cheeks flush at the sight of him. If he was blushing, then Fitzy should have a _fun_ time with this. 

Just as he turned back around Fitz came through the door holding his Vacker crest triumphantly in his hand. His gaze lingered on Keefe’s shirt then realization seemed to set in. Fitz blinked and Keefe knew he’d be blushing hard if he could. 

“I- Uh- my shirt,” Fitz managed after staring at Keefe slack-jawed for a couple seconds  
“Very observant,” Keefe teased, taking a step closer then wrinkling his nose, “please shower you reek.”

Fitz was able to make it into the bathroom without much trouble. That was a lie, Fitz tripped over his feet seven times (Keefe counted), he didn’t tear his eyes away from Keefe’s frame longer than five seconds and stared at him for a solid thirty before shutting the bathroom door behind him. 

Keefe chuckled going over to the desk to get a piece of paper so he could sketch. Keefe let his hand flow, graphite shading in hollows and lines. When Keefe looked at the rough sketch of what he had so far he wasn’t surprised it seemed to be Fitz of some sort, after all, that’s what most of his drawings ended up being. When Fitz stepped back into the room he seemed to be a little more, well, put together. 

“Sorry, I didn’t ask but I can stay over tonight, right?” Keefe asked when he heard the bathroom door slide into place.   
“Yeah sure, whatcha doing?” Fitz questioned as he randomly picked a book from the shelf.  
“Sketching,”

They both laid there in silence for a while, Fitz engrossed in a book he had probably read several times and Keefe detailing his drawing. Keefe sighed in relief when he managed to get it to look somewhat like he wanted it. He leaned on the back two legs of his chair tilting it backward. 

“Please don’t fall,” Fitz said, putting his book down on the nightstand. Keefe huffed, but complied standing up and walking over to Fitz’s bed. 

“Move over,” Keefe said.  
“Huh?”  
“Scooch, I’m tired and clingy,”  
“Clingy?” Fitz repeated, squeaking. 

Keefe somehow managed to maintain his bored expression as he turned off the lights and got under the covers. Fitz was still tense beside him minutes later so Keefe decided he needed to do something about it.

“Fi?” Keefe whispered gently, “c’ mere.” Fitz seemed to stiffen even more and this was the first time Keefe truly felt like maybe he had been wrong after all. It’s not like it would have been surprising, Keefe wasn’t much of a catch, just a childhood best friend really.

Keefe’s breathing began to become rapid but was held off by Fitz’s warm hand on his forearm. When Keefe got himself back under control he took it as a sign that _yes, you can touch me it’s fine._

Keefe scooted over to where Fitz was lying down and threw an arm over his torso burying his nose in Fitz’s neck. Fitz eventually melted into the touch fully relaxing and falling asleep to Keefe’s steady heartbeat and soft breathing. 

Keefe woke up to Fitz whispering, well, that’s what Keefe assumed it was supposed to be but it was a little too loud to actually be considered whispering. He opened his eyes to see the blurry frame of Alvar glancing back over his shoulder as the door closed behind him. Fitz sighed heavily pushing his fingers through Keefe's hair.

Keefe tried not to give away the fact that he was awake but Fitz eventually felt Keefe shift. Fitz’s hand paused for a second then pulled away like he was burned.

“Morning, Fitzy,” Keefe said into Fitz’s chest.  
“I- uh morning,” Fitz muttered, shifting in embarrassment.

Keefe refuses to let go of Fitz for several minutes despite Fitz’s, albeit weak protests. The two boys got out of bed a little awkwardly and shuffled over to the bathroom.

Keefe’s cheeks burned as they stood side by side brushing their teeth. Fitz was leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed humming tunelessly. Keefe willed his cheeks to cool down before Fitz opened his eyes.

Fate wasn’t on Keefe’s side cause Fitz opened his eyes then cocked his head to the side wordlessly asking for an explanation.  
“It’s too damn domestic,” 

Fitz dropped his toothbrush back into the holder, and like the asshole he was, leaned back against the sink and let his head lull onto Keefe’s shoulder. Keefe finished quickly nudging Fitz so they could go down to the kitchen.

They entered to, well, quite a scene. Della was standing at the stove burning breakfast as Biana made coffee off to the side warily side-eying her mother. Alvar was seated on a barstool, chin propped up in his hand staring into a mug.

“Oh, hey boys,” Alvar looked up smirking at them. Keefe subtlety shook his head which Alvar frowned at but motioned for them to sit down. 

“Fitzroy, be a dear and help me?” Della said a slight edge of panic to her voice. Fitz didn’t even have a chance to sit down before shuffling over to help. 

“What happened?” Alvar said, leaning closer to Keefe.  
“Nothing, and that’s the problem, he really is clueless,”   
“If the closet idea doesn’t work I have a backup plan.” Keefe didn’t exactly like the look in Alvar’s eyes, but you do what you have to do.

Fitz managed to salvage enough food to hold them over until lunch. Alden came in and everyone started eating. The silence wasn’t tense per se but it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable. Alden excused himself after not too long, leaving a wake of awkward silence. 

“We’re still making mallowmelt right?” Biana piped up.  
“Oh right, Alvar, Fitz, Keefe can you grab the ingredients?” Della asked. 

The pantry wasn’t exactly the ideal size for a locked in a closet situation, it was a little too roomy but Keefe could make do. Fitz turned towards the shelf looking for the flour. Keefe turned towards Alvar who mouthed five minutes. Keefe nodded, handing the bag of sugar to Alvar who grabbed the flour from Fitz.

“I’ll bring this out to mom, find the flavoring,” Alvar told the boys as he walked out of the pantry. Keefe heard the lock click behind him but Fitz was too busy reaching for the vanilla to notice.

“Fuck it,” Fitz muttered which was never a good sign. Keefe glanced Fitz’s way to see him shuffling over some containers so he could step on one of the lower shelves. _dumbass_

Fitz tested his weight, he must have thought it was sufficient because he pushed himself up on it reaching for the vanilla. _Shit,_ Keefe thought a moment too late as the shelf started creaking. 

“Fitz,” Keefe said lowly.  
“Almost there…” 

Fitz had no self-preservation apparently because he pushed his other foot off the floor putting all of his weight on a shelf as old as the house. The shelf, as expected, collapsed with a dull snap. Fitz released his hold on the bottle of vanilla as the ground rushed towards him. 

To Keefe it all seemed to happen in slow motion as he stood there, useless. The bottle of vanilla shattered sending glass shards in all directions. Fitz meanwhile was attempting to soften his fall by catching himself with his hands.

“FuuUck,” Fitz screamed as glass impaled his right palm. That seemed to spur Keefe into action because he rushed to Fitz's side, hesitating before resting his hand comfortingly on Fitz’s bicep.

“Why is it locked?” Della’s voice could be heard through the pantry door as she tried the handle. When Della swung the door open she and Biana were gazing worriedly down at the pair.

“I told you guys,” Alvar said as he casually made his way to the door, “they’re fin-”

“I _am_ fine,” Fitz said through gritted teeth, hiding his palm so his mom wouldn’t see it. Della muttered something about cleaning the mess up. Keefe’s eyes shifted to Fitz’s hand and he saw blood surfacing around the glass.

“I’m gonna go check to make sure Fitz doesn’t have any cuts,” Keefe announced, dragging Fitz through the door by his uninjured hand.  
“Ah, good idea,” Biana said, grabbing an old rag from the cabinet. 

Keefe pulled Fitz into the small bathroom at the end of the hallway shutting the door gently behind them. Fitz eased himself up onto the countertop wincing even though he only used the fingertips of his right hand.

Keefe wiggled his fingers, a nervous habit he has had since he was little and bent down to open the cabinet. He held Fitz calf as he propped open the cabinet door searching for antiseptic and a towel.

Keefe stood back up cradling Fitz's injured hand who winced at any movement. Keefe drummed his fingers nervously against the cabinet as he inspected the wound. Honestly, it was a nasty cut but not too deep, though the glass was still wedged in Fitz’s skin so that was gonna be a pain to remove.

“Fitzy,” Keefe said gently, reaching out for his hand once more, “we need to remove the glass okay?” 

Fitz nodded in response, biting down on his lip when Keefe opened a drawer to get some tweezers. Keefe positioned the tweezers above the glass, attempting to gather up the nerve to pull it out. 

It was a lot harder to care for someone else’s injuries than his own. It’s not like his parents hurt him, but they didn’t _care_ for him either so he had to learn how to clean a scrape when he fell from a tree around 8 years ago, Keefe was well practiced at this point.

Fitz’s hand involuntarily flinched as Keefe gently started to pull the glass out. The tweezers dug deeper into Fitz’s wound drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. Keefe gritted his teeth and finished the job, pulling the glass out and placing it down onto a paper towel. 

“Sorry, are you okay?” Keefe asked, placing his hand gently on Fitz’s knee.   
“You’re overreacting it was just some glass Keefe,” 

Keefe ignored that last comment grabbing a cloth and silently working at cleaning Fitz's hand. Keefe knew from personal experience alcohol stung but Fitz sat there stoically as Keefe used the alcohol wetted tip of a cloth to clean his wound. 

“Keefe,” Keefe looked up from where he was tracing the lines of Fitz’s palm lightly. They were nose to nose and _wow_ Fitz’s eyes were so much prettier up close. Keefe searched Fitz’s eyes for something, anything to indicate what he was feeling.

Fitz’s uninjured palm came up to cradle Keefe’s jaw before his thoughts could spiral too far. Fitz’s thumb ran against Keefe’s cheek and any coherent thought he had flew out the window. 

“Can I kiss you?” Keefe managed. Fitz’s eyes widened in surprise but a shaky nod was enough confirmation. Keefe leaned in slowly, still unsure if this was happening. Their lips touched and Fitz was warm, so warm. The kiss was sweet and innocent but enough for them. 

“Oh,” Fitz said a little breathlessly after Keefe pulled away. Keefe blinked at Fitz in shock then burst into a fit of laughter leaning his forehead against Fitz’s shoulder. Fitz’s arm wrapped around Keefe’s back comfortably remaining there even after his laughter dissolved. 

Keefe finished wrapping up Fitz’s hand and tugged him down from his spot on the countertop. The two boys walked back into the kitchen which was, well chaos at best. Alvar was stirring a pot, nose crinkled, and brow furrowed as he attempted to change the temperature on the stove. 

When Alvar met Keefe’s gaze he raised his eyebrows to which Keefe responded with a thumbs up.


End file.
